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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506672">Funny Honey of Mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez'>articulatez</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Smut, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, Oral Sex, Pregnant Sex, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:40:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Cousland and her beloved king take a much needed getaway!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Funny Honey of Mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alistair's lips tasted of honey. Earlier that day, strolling in a clutch of trees and chatting, Queen Cousland stopped and pointed at a beehive hanging on a branch. It teemed with life, buzzing and swarming. Elissa turned to Alistair and clutched his arm, fixing him with a goading look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” he said. “I’ll get stung. We both will!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, my King,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Wouldn’t fresh honeycomb be perfect in our tea before bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work, work, work,” he sighed. “Thought this was supposed to be a romantic evening, but no, it’s more ordering me around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing that she had her way, Elissa pulled a smoke bomb out of her pouch, thankful that Wynne had supplied her with a few bombs and potions “just in case of trouble.” Ordinarily meant to cover escape or confuse opponents so they could be picked off one by one, this time she deployed it at the tree trunk. Thick, grey smoke wafted through the branches and into the hive. A fog of bees lifted off its surface and dispersed. The buzzing within softened into silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sure those innocent bees are only sleeping,” he joked. “But it’s all worth it if my dearest can have what she wants.” He approached the tree and shouldered it twice, his muscles flexing deliciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beehive fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa crouched, curious. Her father used to call her pup, an affectionate nickname that encompassed her inquisitive nature, always ready to wrestle and play and learn. This was no exception, watching her beloved cut a wide opening in the structure, slowly reach into the quiet hive, and withdraw a dripping segment of honeycomb. She had eaten fresh honeycomb out of noble larders, at celebratory banquets, and her own wedding feast. Her last birthday featured an enormous honey cake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mouth watering at the sight of one of her favorite treats, she offered him an empty jar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they took their tea with honeycomb the same color as her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Queen Cousland, Hero of Ferelden, Warden-Commander, Arlessa; that very day she had shed her duties and the cadre of guards and handmaidens that shadowed her every step to spend a night apart on the bed of the Drakon River. The river glittered azure, the sun setting on the horizon, and a crackling fire provided the warmth that the wind and water tried to steal. Unlike during the Blight, they did not fear that the campfire smoke would draw unholy beasts. Still, her King kept his sword and shield close by, and Elissa had throwing daggers hidden away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smirked at the thought of when he discovered those sharp points not long ago; undressing her, stripping them off her thighs, he remarked that Zevran had too great an influence on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair pulled back from the kiss, frowning. "What? Too much tongue?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curling closer to him on their shared bedroll, she gazed down at him and splayed her hand on his chest, admiring him. Fading battle scars earned by the slash of darkspawn claws marked delicate lines on his cheek, ending at the concerned downward turn of his reddened mouth. His eyes were two shining gold coins, yet sometimes in the dark where only the dancing firelight touched them she had seen them flash, catlike, or rather elflike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yes," she teased. "If you must be that generous with your tongue, I'd like it more on my breasts."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa had to laugh at how he blushed. As if she did not know how he likes to kiss her breasts, his affectionate sucking sometimes leaving faint bruises on her suntanned skin. As if they haven't lain together, been married under the Maker's gaze, and lain together some more, this time in a proper bed. She swore she would never tire of his earnestness, how he lit up and smiled when she walked into a room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please don't pout," she sighed, and kissed him long and slow, caressing his tongue with her own. He tangled his hands in her long, wavy hair, cradling the back of her head and neck as he rolled her onto her back. "Oh, careful, careful," she giggled, and at once he was on his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did I hurt it--?" he asked, watching the slight swell of her bare stomach for visible damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no, darling, the baby is fine." She kissed him on the brow. "It would take more than lovemaking to damage it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of becoming flustered again, he paused and said coyly, "Lovemaking? Whoever said anything about lovemaking? When I said I was getting you into bed, I meant it. This is a rest holiday, isn't that what you said?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can rest perfectly well with my legs on your shoulders," she grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," he scolded her, and kneaded her breasts, thumbing her nipples until they hardened into sensitive peaks. Clumsy though his kisses may be, he knew how to touch her as well as he knew how to touch himself. Alistair bent, a heated, muscular presence that loomed covetously over her, and took her breast into his mouth. Then she was lost to his swirling tongue, the scrape of teeth, and she stroked his jaw and sighed, and sighed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, please," she said, digging her toes into the fabric that used to be under them and that she had somehow kicked to her feet, her back in the damp grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced up from where he admired a purple, ringing bruise suckled onto her cleavage. The spot ached, a good ache. She wanted to ache elsewhere. "Yes?" he said, stretching the word out and grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lower. Please, Alistair."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, lower," he murmured, eyes darkening, and kissed her belly, her hips. "Here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, stop that, please. You know what I want, so please don't tease."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tease you, dear lady? I'd never. Well, only a little," he murmured, breath warm on her thighs. "You get breathy and desperate, it's adorable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa whined. Truly at the end of her tether, she draped her legs down his back and guided him in with the clutch of her round thighs. He dove in, lapping her wetness up eagerly, the hums of pleasure and how one of his big hands clutched at her buttock a testament to his delight in being there, between her legs, pleasing her. Alistair's tongue moved in wide, sweeping motions on her lower lips, used the tip to circle her swollen clit and zigzag back down. What was already an aroused cunt became a soaked and throbbing mess, and he was to blame, him and his enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her vision was edging in white. He was edging her, not intentionally. Orgasm eluded her while he moved place to place, so she pushed him where she needed him – at the crest – and petted his head, nodding. Breathless, she looked at his nose pressed into golden curls, his cheeks rosy from exertion. She combed her fingers through his hair. The sight turned her red, made her toes curl. Yes, the grass and the coming night were cold but his mouth on her created its own fire, and when he met her eyes and she saw the need there everything pulsed the color of the sun. Elissa threw her head back and soundlessly cried out, locking her knees at his ears and holding him in place to meet her thrusts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair said something into her that might have been a question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you close?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, yes, I’m close!” she cried, and he went on devouring her, sloppily licking and sucking on her clit until she went silent and rigid, tugging his hair and arching her back. Her sight faded in and out in a blissed corona shaped by his kisses. “Sweet Maker…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathless and boneless, she drowsed and watched him wipe his lips on his hand, his hand on his thigh. Alistair gathered her into his arms, her back to his chest. They two caught their breath like that, him wrapped around her. It was hard to believe there was a time before they loved each other; surely it was a natural sort of victory they’d earned, their lives together wrested out of the jaws of war and carved into this: a million sweet moments, his mouth on her earlobe, his hand stroking her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am a lucky King indeed,” he murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most could not say they’d married for love. They had a love that benefited Ferelden and the throne as well as them, but it was the love that bound them, not duty first. The child she bore him would be raised where he was loved and guided as Duncan had loved and guided Elissa and Alistair when they were closer to innocent. Closer to new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laid her hand on his and smiled, the warmth of her climax fading though his body warded off the chill. Still, she shivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you cold, Liss?” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa nodded. “Yes, I tend to get cold when lying naked on the grass at night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this help?” he asked low in her ear, clutching her closer. He was firm and hot, and ramrod straight pressing into the space in her thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It helps there,” she said, laughing. “I think it helps you most of all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair feigned an outraged gasp. “Why, never in my life have I been so offended in the presence of nobility!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I find that hard to believe, considering that you were raised by Lady Isolde. Thanks to her irrational fear of you usurping her position, you eat and sleep like a barn animal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midst her teasing and giggling, Alistair slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her too sensitive flesh and kissing her shoulder to soothe her sharp gasps. “Will you teach our son these awful manners?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you insist on teaching our daughter how to cook,” she said, speaking through panting breaths. “Among your deadly arsenal of cooking I can name boiled mutton, boiled rabbit, and an assortment of vegetables in water that can only be described as…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one push he was inside her and said, “Boiled? I think it’s you, my lady, who is boiling” in a last show of humor. Then he slumped forward, gasping, “Oh, Liss. How—how do you do this to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought the same. How could he wind her up twice in so short a time, make her forget her inhibitions and writhe naked on the grass, crying out. Alistair raised her top leg, giving him more room to sink in to the hilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold it like this. Up,” he said, a quiet and insistent order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hairs on the back of her neck stood and any sly response died in her throat. Instead, she did it, leaving his hand free to stroke her breast. He traced the sensitive underside, then enveloped it in his firm grip. He liked her breasts. Though she was sore and swollen, his touch and his need to touch were the sweetest balm to any middling pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held still inside her, laying kisses on her throat, her jaw, letting her adjust. That overwhelming sensation of fullness, and every jump of his cock made both of their breath catch in turn, made him hold her closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can move,” she said, taking his hand where he groped her breast to kiss his knuckles. “Please, make love to me.” Her voice dripped with need and to show she meant it she raised her leg again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you certain?” he asked, turning her head to look into her eyes. His mouth had fallen a little open, breath harsh and eyes glazed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa nodded, closed her eyes, and clenched on his cock. “Yes! Yes, I’m more than cer—Ah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then he had her hip tightly in hand, easing himself out and not giving her long to protest the emptiness when he began in earnest, plunging back in at the same time as his lips met hers in the dark. Not the most skillful of kisses, but it held a lifetime’s passion. The salty-sweet taste of her wetness lingered and she whinnied, thrusting her tongue into his mouth before he could pull back and fret. She kissed him so hard that her front teeth felt bruised and, eyes closed, she saw stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still cold?” he asked, the words broken in a mouthful of ragged sighs. His forehead pressed hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In answer she whined and grabbed the back of his neck, dragging his face to her neck. He suckled her neck voraciously. There was good reason her courtly dresses had high collars ribboned in thick lace; the better to hide the marks on her pale throat. Once this evening he’d set that tense spring of pleasure off on the edge of his tongue and drank her sweet honey. Alistair moving inside her and kissing her sensitive skin, she felt that spring coil again into a position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please,” she almost sobbed, “whatever you do, please don’t finish yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted in tacit agreement, moving to stroke her clit. “I’ll do my best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elissa moved her hips in time to the motion of his fingers and his cock, trying to find her pleasure. “Left. My left,” she said, adjusting him. “There, oh please, oh please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wave of pleasure building inside was too great; she knew her peak would drown him if his face had been in position. He had the right spot and the position of his thrusts hit her in such a way that she couldn’t have delayed her orgasm even if she’d wanted to. Arching her back and rocking in staccato backwards thrusts, she grabbed his forearms and let herself go. It burst out of her in a silent scream. Not a moment later he buried his face in her shoulder, groaning and buried deep. Rushes of cum filled her, steady pulses. Each pulse was echoed by her pelvis clenching, drawing out every drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The aftermath found her trembling. A bead of sweat ran along her cheek, or perhaps it was a tear. A happy tear, an exquisitely sated tear. Alistair kissed it away and worried, asking if he’d hurt her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, she turned, forcing him to slip out rather suddenly, and cradled his head in her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. “If only you could understand how good you make me feel. How cherished. If there is a woman alive who thinks she is better loved, I am sorry to inform her that she is gravely mistaken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to hide the sheen of tears there. Elissa kissed one of his eyelids, then the other, and brushed her thumb under to catch the tears before they could fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some Blights have blessings inside them, don’t they?” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist to draw her in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be silly, Alistair. If the Blight hadn’t happened, we would have found each other somehow. What Maker would have the heart to not bring together two who are so nearly perfect together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nearly perfect, hm?” He rested his chin on top of her head and stroked her back. His breaths were slowing and he’d be asleep soon. “How can I make it more perfect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, a blanket would help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was silent and for a moment she was afraid he’d fallen asleep. Then he sat up, draped the furs on her, and snuggled in again. “You’re right. This is perfect.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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